Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason wasn't a good person.

Hell, he'd say he'd be the first to admit it, but he had a couple of very annoying siblings that'd happily tell anyone they met. That, and give a two-hour summary of all of Jason's negative attributes.

He still wasn't sure if it'd be better or worse if they were actually wrong.

So yeah, he was self-aware enough to know he was an asshole. A dangerous, unstable asshole that held onto his sanity by a very thin thread. His life had been a mess since about the day he was born, and what with living on the streets, being adopted by Bruce Wayne and becoming Robin, being tortured by the Joker and killed, being revived again… Yeah, it was an utter shitshow.

It was one of the reasons he was on the fence about the issue of soulmates.

The rest of his family had all found theirs – Bruce and Selina, of all people; Dick and Barbara; Replacement with Stephanie; even the Demon Spawn had found his, with Jon Kent. And on any given day, it was even odds on whether they'd feel sorry for him or mock him with increasingly terrible guesses about what his soulmate would be like.

Everyone wondered about their soulmate at least once or twice – what they'd be like, what it would feel like to Connect, what the future might look like.

Despite learning from a young age not to hope too much, or you'd be disappointed – a lesson his biological mother had reinforced into certainty – Jason was no exception. He just preferred not to do it out loud, because it didn't matter what he said; his family would make a joke out of it most days.

"I bet she'll take absolutely none of his shit."

"Hell, I bet she'd be able to kick his ass."

"Some buff biker chick, probably. That'd fit."

"Ha, and the first time they meet she'd beat him up."

"One look at his face and she'll either be running the other way or yelling at him to shape up."

"Do you think she'll have tattoos?"

"Hell yeah, like skulls and guns."

"Yeah, he likes a girl that can crush him."

"Gotta have a good voice too, to keep up with how much she'll yell at him."

"Oh I'll just bet they'll be arguing all the time – Jason thrives on conflict."

"Ohhh, do you think we could bet on how many times she'll slap him upside the head in a single conversation?"

"Or punch him in the shoulder or arm."

"Or in the face."

"Imagine Todd all henpecked."

"He'll be forced to listen to her."

He tended to shrug it off, or at least look like he did. Showing them weakness was like swimming between sharks with his legs freshly chopped off. So he laughed, and told them she'd be badass enough to beat all of them up, just for that.

It wasn't a bad idea. His life was a shitshow, as he'd concluded, and anyone connected to him was better off knowing how to defend themselves.

There wasn't room for soft or sweet in his life, and it was best to stuff those childhood dreams away and exchange them for a healthy dose of reality. Hell, he'd thought of the kind of soulmate he'd wished for once upon a time and felt himself go cold as he imagined her in the life he actually lived.

They were foolish childhood dreams.

Foolish, unrealistic childhood dreams.

Dangerous childhood dreams.

Wry resignation made place for an angry resistance to the idea of his soulmate. Because they likely weren't wrong about their guesses, and while a soulmate was supposed to be your perfect complement, someone who fit with you and would make your life better… Well, despite growing up and growing into his common sense, Jason just couldn't help the thought that that wasn't what he wanted.

Soulmates were what you needed, not necessarily what you wanted or what you thought you needed.

And hell, Jason was jaded enough that he was well-aware fate was very likely to tie him to someone who would be able and very willing to knock him into proper shape. Well-aware, also, that his family kind of hoped for it.

Considering all of that, he was in no way prepared for actually meeting his soulmate.

It was his most beautiful dream and his worst nightmare.

Jason was stunned into silence as he stared down at his soulmate.

She did not have the same problem.

"– so sorry, I didn't notice you there and I'm so clumsy and I'm so sorry, oh no I ruined your shirt, oh no I messed it all up because of course I did and please, please don't hate me I am so sorry about your shirt and oh no did it hurt, it must have, it was hot and I just spilled it all over you because I can't even walk properly I'm so sorry you must be so disappointed…"

"Whoa, whoa," he finally managed, putting his hands on her shoulders and leaning down to catch her eyes. "Hey, look at me. It's alright. Deep breaths, okay? Deep breaths."

She still looked frantic, although she was trying to steady her breathing, but he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. (Oh fuck, her eyes were stunning. She was stunning. He was gonna buy Roy a new bike and he was never gonna tell him why.)

"Good," he encouraged, smiling more gently than he'd ever thought he'd be capable of. "It's all fine. I'm not hurt, and it's just a shirt, and I am not disappointed."

Terrified, absolutely. She just looked so tiny and innocent, and the thought of her anywhere near his life almost gave him a panic attack. But with any luck whatsoever, she lived here in New York; close enough to visit, but far enough away from Gotham that she would at least be mostly safe.

Marinette was amazing and so, so much more than he'd ever dared hope for. They'd been talking for hours, getting to know one another before he had to head back to Gotham, and he never wanted it to end.

"Do you… I'd really like to come back," he told her. "Get to know you better, and…"

"I'd really like that," she told him, eyes bright and hopeful, and he melted. It didn't seem real, that someone like her would be his soulmate in the end. She was sweet, and supportive, and absolutely perfect.

(Well, perfect to him, at least. She definitely showed some signs of an undiagnosed anxiety disorder and could occasionally get too nervous and fall into a panicked spiral that he tried his best to intercept, and he both hated and felt somewhat relieved that she was from Paris – he hated that she'd gone through a situation like that in the first place, but was relieved she had at least some experience with the atypical, since it was likely she'd need it as his soulmate.)

He considered if he should say anything, for a while, before in the end deciding it'd be better to be honest with her. "Would you mind if… I don't know if I want to tell my family about you yet," he admitted. Noticing the uncertainty growing in her eyes, he shook his head. "Not because I'm ashamed of you – anything but. But my family is… pretty messed up at the best of times. And I don't… I know they're gonna be way too overwhelming and they're gonna say you're too good for me, and they're right, but I don't want to deal with that yet."

"That's… Your family should be saying I'm not good enough for you," Marinette told him, frowning.

"Yeah, that's… I don't think that's gonna happen." He grimaced just imagining the way his brothers, especially, would react to his soulmate being this absolutely adorable sweetheart. "They've kind of seen me at my worst, and, well… Let's just say they've been taking guesses about what my soulmate would be like, and most of them weren't exactly… There's a reason I wasn't looking forward to meeting my soulmate if she was like that."

Marinette seemed displeased, but surprisingly enough, it seemed to be directed more towards his family. She didn't ask for more information, though, instead putting her hand on his arm and smiling reassuringly. (He didn't think his wildest dreams had come even close to this, and her support of him did things to his heart.)

"Alright, let's not tell our families yet." Jason frowned – he hadn't meant that she couldn't tell her family. She squeezed his arm gently. "It's alright. My parents… I love them, but they tend to be either… Absent isn't the word, but… Busy with their own things, I guess? Or they are completely overbearing. I kind of like the idea of getting to know each other better first, before informing others."

As much as he needed to get back to Gotham before Roy or anyone else could ask why his errand in New York was taking longer than it was supposed to, he absolutely hated telling her goodbye. But they had each other's contact information and he'd be coming back soon.

He could hardly wait.

"Fuck you!"

He wanted to shoot the little bastard, or borrow one of Demon Spawn's swords to run him through.

"Whoa, easy!" Dick got between him and the Replacement, warily looking at him like he'd snap at any moment and go on a murder spree. And hell, it had been a while since he'd been this close to it. "What's going on?"

"Fucking Replacement needs to stay the hell away from my private life," Jason snarled, "or I will personally dig him a grave next to mine and make sure he stays there."

"Considering how often you've been gone lately, I just wanted to make sure you weren't up to something dangerous," Drake said, rolling his eyes. "You've been acting weird for the past two or three months now, so I figured we should probably check. Wouldn't want you to fall back on previous bad habits."

"He's not wrong, Jason," Bruce spoke up, looking at him analytically. "Is there something we should be concerned about?"

"You should be concerned about staying out of my damn business." There was a reason he'd been keeping Marinette to himself, and he did not need them interfering. 'Best detectives' indeed – he'd met Marinette a little over eight months ago, and they'd only just noticed he was acting differently? "If I got something I want to tell you, I'll tell you. Other than that, it's my damn life and my damn business, not yours."

"You're hiding something," the Demon Spawn sneered, arms crossed and his usual superior expression on his face. "So you can either tell us, or we'll find out some other way."

He'd done his best to hide his association with Marinette, from his family and his enemies both, but there were limits to what he could do. If they looked hard enough, they'd probably figure it out. Would probably do a thorough background check on Marinette, the idea of which made him long for the time where he'd just kill someone to eliminate any risks. She should never get involved in the shitshow that was his life, his family, his enemies. And the moment someone found out about her, she would become a target, would be used to get to him.

"Did you ask Alfred?"

Of course they hadn't. He knew they hadn't, or Alfred would have told them to back off. He was the only member of his family that he'd introduced to Marinette, the only family member that wouldn't mock him or deride him or put her in extra danger, and the two of them got along swimmingly.

"Wait, Alfred knows?" Dick asked, backing off a bit.

"Of fucking course Alfred knows," he scoffed. "But hey, feel free to actually check your sources before invading my fucking privacy and sticking your nose where it don't belong. And then back the fuck off."

He still wasn't fucking surprised when, on his next trip to New York, he found six bugs on his belongings and three of his annoying siblings trying to subtly shadow him. Dick, Replacement and Steph weren't bad, but they also didn't have Jason's amount of experience on the streets. And as much as he was able to shake them off without too much extra trouble, it did mean he'd have to message Marinette if it would be possible to stay in for their date today just in case, which was not what he'd planned.

Fortunately, Marinette didn't appear too disappointed, and when he got there (after two changes of clothes and a lot of public transit swapping until he'd lost his tails) she welcomed him happily.

While he'd explained some of his background, he'd so far kept silent on the whole 'vigilante' thing, made sure to stick to 'presumed dead' instead of 'actually dead' and only talked about his 'crime lord'-phase in fairly abstract terms. If his family kept up like this, though, he'd probably have to mention some more details to her soon.

Chapter Text

Nononononononononononono…

He'd gone completely nonverbal when the call had come that someone had taken Marinette. He was afraid that, if he opened his mouth, all he'd be able to do was yell and curse and break down completely.

None of his family had noticed yet, except Alfred – the older man had put a supportive hand on his shoulder. His helmet hid the horrified expression on his face and the panic in his eyes from everyone else. Cass was deep into a mission in Hong Kong, or she'd very likely have noticed as well, and he'd honestly have traded keeping his secret for the chance of her being able to help in some way.

It hadn't even been him. He'd been careful, so very careful to keep Marinette away from his life as Bruce Wayne's adopted son and his life as Red Hood, and despite several attempts, not even his family had been able to find anything. He'd done everything he could.

And then the call had come in to all Justice League members – find Chat Noir and Ladybug. He remembered, as though through a fog, the defiant look on Marinette's face and the bruise on her cheek as the video message played, informing all heroes that they knew Marinette had been connected to the Parisian heroes and that, if they didn't show up within twelve hours, her life would be forfeit.

Except the Parisian heroes had disappeared off the face of the earth after winning their fight against Hawkmoth and Mayura. No one knew where to find them. And they only had less than seven hours left.

Oh please fuck no please no he couldn't lose her.

"Still trying to trace the transmission," Oracle said from behind the computer.

"We're sure no one knows how to reach them?" Wonder Woman asked from another screen. Quite a few of the Justice League members were on conference call.

"Alya Césaire has been contacted," Superman informed them all. He was off-world, but had still called in once he'd been made aware of what was happening. Apparently, these trinkets were a big fucking deal. "She used to be the main source on Ladybug and Chat Noir when they were still active, and she was one of the temporary heroes for a while, in the beginning. She doesn't know how to reach them either, but she's put an urgent message to them on her blog, asking to call as soon as possible. There hasn't been a response yet."

"Same with her former roommate – Adrien Agreste, Hawkmoth's son," the Flash reported from his station at the Watchtower. "Apparently, Ladybug told him after the court case ended and the heroes disappeared that she would know how to contact him if it was necessary, but he's not heard from her since then and she didn't leave him a way to contact her instead."

Where the fuck were they? They'd fucking put a target on her back with their careless interactions with her – hell, if someone went looking even a little deeper than surface level, there were pictures of both heroes landing on her balcony, and even a video or two of Chat Noir joking around with her like they were old friends and calling her 'princesse'. So where the fuck were they now?

He couldn't lose her.

"They can't have taken her far," Nightwing mused. "She lives in New York, went missing between 8:16 and 8:20 AM, and they sent out the video message at 9:30 AM. Did it look like she was in a plane or on a boat?"

"No indications of being on the move," Batman noted, eyes narrowing. "Can you play it again."

Jason hid his hands in his belt so no one would see how much he was shaking as Marinette appeared on the screen again, cuffed to what looked way too much like an electric chair. He actually leaned into Alfred a little as the man squeezed his shoulder.

They'd hurt her. There was a bruise on her cheek and she had a split lip, though it seemed to have stopped bleeding. There was no way of telling whether there were more injuries underneath her clothes.

Despite all that, she didn't look as frightened as he would have thought she would be. There was some anxiety, certainly, and she was tapping her fingers nervously, but overall, she appeared more angry than scared. The glare she threw at whoever was behind the camera was honestly a work of art, and if the situation had been any different, Jason would have applauded her.

"No hints," Red Robin groaned. "Some sort of sheet behind her, sheet covering the floor so we can't identify it, no background noise I could isolate during the one minute it lasted."

"I can't hear anything strange either," Superboy spoke up from next to Robin.

Something nagged at Jason, though.

Something wasn't quite right.

"Again," he rasped, the voice modulator in his mask hiding the panic in his voice.

He got a few looks from the others, but he ignored them in favor of looking at the screen showing the video of Marinette. There was something there (more than the utterly terrifying sight of his soulmate hurt, captured, at the mercy of an unknown threat).

When Marinette got nervous, her gestures got bigger, more pronounced. They did the same when she was excited about something. And she was bad, very bad at sitting still, except when he was holding her (when she just about melted into him).

"Again."

He was calmer now, attention focused on being able to do anything.

Tap, tap, quick tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap, quick tap. Quick tap, tap. Tap, tap.

Son of a bitch. She wasn't tapping nervously. She was tapping morse code.

"Again."

Quick tap, quick tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap. Quick tap, tap, quick tap, quick tap. Quick tap, tap. Tap, quick tap. Tap, quick tap, quick tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap. Tap, tap, tap. Quick tap, quick tap, tap. Tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap, quick tap.

"Again."

Quick tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap. Tap, quick tap, tap, quick tap. Quick tap, tap. Quick tap, tap, tap, quick tap. Quick tap, quick tap. Tap, quick tap. Tap, tap, quick tap. Quick tap, quick tap, tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap, tap, tap. Quick tap, quick tap, quick tap, quick tap, quick tap.

Stalking over to the computer, he pulled up a map of Gotham City.

"Red Hood?" Nightwing asked.

Jason ignored his brother. There was no way he could explain anything right now, not without spiraling into the kind of frantic speech his soulmate so often lost herself in.

Fuck, he had to find her. He would find her.

"If you could play it one more time, Red Robin?" Alfred asked, still standing where Jason had been before. Once the video fragment had been repeated again, he let out a soft "ah".

"'Ah', what?"

"The tapping appears random, but the ring finger of her left hand is tapping in morse code," Alfred explained, now heading over to Jason to help look as he got into every camera and satellite image he could.

"Morse… Are you serious?" Nightwing asked.

"What is she saying?" Wonder Woman asked, just as Red Robin played the fragment again. Jason badly wanted to rip the voice box out of the kidnapper's throat as his demands for Ladybug and Chat Noir and his threat to Marinette's life sounded through the cave again, distorted by a voice modulator.

"Gotham island south. Escaping 2035," Robin translated, sounding reluctantly impressed.

"Which island, though?" Aquaman asked. "I'm pretty sure you have multiple."

"My guess is that's what Hood is currently trying to figure out," Oracle deadpanned. "Unless they showed her on a map, I'm impressed she even noticed more than just that it was Gotham."

It would be too damn obvious. There was no way they'd be that fucking predictable, right? On the other hand, if his life had taught him anything, it was that assholes liked to be as fucking dramatic as possible. And holding Marinette on Paris Island as bait for the heroes of Paris would be the height of fucking dramatics.

"Ugh," Oracle groaned as she noticed what he was looking at. "They would, wouldn't they?"

Slowly, they started narrowing down places where they could be. Red Robin volunteered to see if he could find (by legal or illegal means) anything to give them more information about her kidnapping in New York, while Oracle focused on the Gotham side of things.

"Should we really focus everything on this lead?" Superman asked. "What if she's wrong?"

Jason wanted to punch him. But then again, he often wanted to punch everyone except Marinette and Alfred.

"Other leads weren't going anywhere soon," Batman reminded him. They'd been trying to trace the video ever since they'd received it, and they'd already narrowed down her time of kidnapping to a timeframe of only a few minutes with the help of cameras in New York, even though they hadn't been able to find exactly what had happened. It was becoming increasingly obvious that these people either had some serious skills, or they had some serious money to be able to pay people with those skills. "And unless you've heard of the Parisian heroes, there's not a lot more we can do now."

"Still nothing," the Flash confirmed grimly.

The video was frozen on the final frame, and Jason tried to look past Marinette's bruised face to see if there was anything identifiable about the room. But they'd been careful to make sure the sheets covered anything that might give something away.

All of them were so focused on trying to find any trace of Marinette and her kidnappers that they didn't check the time. It shouldn't have mattered. They still had hours until the deadline they'd been given. It shouldn't have mattered.

"Ehm, guys?" It was the Flash. "There's an incoming transmission. Looks like it's from the same source as the first."

He froze. Checked the clock. 3:30 PM.

Halfway.

Marinette appeared on the screen. Living. Breathing. Glaring. Bruised. It didn't look like they'd hurt her more than they had before, though the bruise had darkened as more time had passed.

"I hope, for her sake, that you are making progress on getting Ladybug and Chat Noir to show up."

"We are," Batman lied. Stalling for time.

"Have you spoken to them yet?"

"We've reached an associate of theirs, who is now getting in touch with them."

If Jason hadn't known any better, he would have believed it. Bruce was an amazing liar when he wanted to be.

"Six hours, and you haven't even managed to speak to them. It almost sounds like you're not even trying," the kidnapper said. The voice modulator he was wearing made it impossible to tell the tone of his voice. "And that's if you're even telling the truth. We've been keeping an eye on the Ladyblog, after all. Perhaps you need some extra motivation."

Oh no. Oh please no.

Had it not been for Alfred stabilizing him, he'd have fallen. It was like his muscles stopped holding him up the moment he heard Marinette scream as electricity rushed through her body. It wasn't more than a few seconds, but it felt like eternity.

Fuck. Fuck. Jason was going to murder him – fuck Batman's 'no killing' rule.

Actually, no, he wouldn't kill the bastard that had hurt Marinette. That'd be too quick. Too merciful. He was going to make fucking sure he'd suffer for the rest of his life. He would find her and he would make sure the asshole would never be able to hurt her again.

"Better hurry up, little heroes, or I might give you another reminder. And I don't think she liked that very much."

The transmission cut out.

Jason remained still. If he moved even one muscle right now, he'd destroy everything around him. If he said anything, he'd yell and curse and then destroy everything around him. A green haze had descended over him, urging him to killmaimdestroy, but he couldn't. They needed to figure out where Marinette was and get her to safety and protect her, and that meant he could not give into the Madness. Not now.

"She knew that would happen," Robin stated emotionlessly.

"What?" Nightwing yelped, turning to him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Tt. She moved up her escape time to 17:15. My guess would be that he's planning to call every two hours from now."

"That means that we have an hour and forty-five minutes to figure out where she is," Red Robin nodded, before frowning. "Do you think she can get out?"

"She thinks she can, at least," Batman noted. "Meaning she is going to try and, one way or another, it's going to disrupt their plans, which could be very dangerous for her."

"Do we think she can?" Green Lantern looked worried.

"She was somewhat connected to the Parisian heroes, but that doesn't mean she isn't a civilian," Wonder Woman replied.

"Statistically, people that lived in Paris when Hawkmoth was active, especially those that were teenagers during that time, tend to be willing to take more risks and are more reckless," Black Canary informed them. "Due to Ladybug's power, most people in Paris have recovered from severe wounds or even death at least once in that time."

The League members winced. Paris was still a sore spot for many of them, having been unaware of the situation until it was already over. Its mayor had managed to keep the information contained, and had even reached out to the League to 'notify' them of a group of rebellious teenagers in the city that wanted to stage some sort of revolution and undermine him, which might go so far as to send false reports of supernatural activity to the Justice League.

Marinette had talked to him about the Hawkmoth situation a little, but he could tell it was hard for her. There were also a lot of memories she had that were still too difficult to speak out loud.

Not for the first time, Jason wondered how badly she had been hurt before.

Damn it all, she was being hurt right now, and he couldn't be there.

Where was she?

"Considering the sheets, it could just as well be a residential building," Superman sighed. "They've made sure there's nothing to go off."

"They need a place with electricity for that thing, at least," Red Robin mused. "And either they've got really good soundproofing, or there's no one nearby."

Soulmates were such bullshit. Seriously, why didn't that shit come with some kind of homing beacon so you'd always be able to track them down when they were in trouble? Hell, once he got her back he would beg her to please, please accept one of his trackers so he'd be able to find her if something happened to her. It shouldn't, he'd do everything he could to prevent it, but he wasn't dumb or naïve enough to believe he could keep her safe forever.

Not without locking her in some kind of gilded cage, and fuck that shit. He was not trapping her. Which meant hoping that she'd accept a tracker in case of emergencies.

Time somehow managed to seem too fast and too slow at the same time. Too slow, because he needed to get to his soulmate now and her kidnapper had made it damn difficult to track him. Too fast, because their investigation wasn't moving forward at the pace it should and soon, Marinette would either attempt to escape by herself or be stopped, after which they'd receive another video call where his fucking soulmate would be tortured.

Fuck, he was this close to just telling Superboy to fly him the fuck over so he could check out the island himself. If it hadn't been for the fact that Superboy was not supposed to be seen using his powers in Gotham, as well as the fact that the kid would never disobey if Batman told him not to, he'd have been on his way already.

"Got a motel scheduled for demolition next month," Oracle announced. "Liberty Motel. There's some activity in the vicinity around the time they could've arrived from New York, though no outright confirmation."

"There's also a couple of smaller warehouses, but they're on the other side of the island. Same about the confirmation, though," Red Robin followed.

His death had taught him to listen to his gut. And his gut was saying it wasn't the warehouses.

"Hood, where are you going?" he heard Nightwing ask as he stalked over to his bike, violence barely contained.

"Motel."

"Hold it, Red Hood," Batman commanded sternly. But hell, most days it was already a coin toss as to whether he'd listen or not. Today, there wasn't a chance.

"What the hell is with him?" was the last thing he heard Red Robin say before he kicked off, bringing his bike up to its maximum speed as quickly as possible. Going directly through Gotham was a risk, especially at this time of the day, so he stuck to the outer edges as much as possible.

He could still hear the others through the comms. "Split up; Nightwing, Spoiler, follow him. Red Robin, Robin, Superboy, you're with me," Batman ordered. Very subtle choices there, like Dick and Steph could actually prevent him from killing someone if he wanted to. But at least they were the least likely to actively aggravate him, which had probably played a role. And the fact that Demon Spawn wouldn't accept being sent on another mission than his soulmate, considering he was still paranoid about losing him even though the kid had literal superpowers. "And Red Hood, we will be discussing this."

Like he gave a fuck. Bruce could yell at him however much he wanted, as long as he had Marinette back and safe.

"What's got you going nuts about this, anyhow?" Red Robin grumbled. "I mean, we all wanna help, but this is extreme even for you."

"She is pretty cute," Spoiler joked.

"Wait, you think Hood's got a crush?" Nightwing sounded way too fucking delighted.

"Tt. It's dangerous to let feelings get in the way of a mission." Like the little gremlin had any right to cast stones about that. He'd gotten better at not trying to cut every single person that pissed him off even a little, but there was still a way to go.

"Aww, I think it's sweet," Superboy cooed, somehow managing to be just as annoying as the Hellspawn in the exact opposite way.

"It's hopeless, that's what it is," Red Robin laughed. "She's so far out of his league they're not even playing the same sport."

"Doesn't mean he can't like her," Nightwing reasoned.

"And hey, maybe she'll like the 'knight in shining armor' thing enough to give him a shot," Spoiler remarked optimistically. "Big, strong man comes to save you from your kidnappers? Quite a few girls like that, even more when they're civilians."

"You suggest he shows up to this imaginary date with a mask on? Tt, it's not like he can actually go on a date with a civilian he's met as Red Hood."

"It's not like he'd stand a chance anyway," Oracle informed them, proving once again why she was definitely not excluded from his list of people he wanted to punch at one point or another. "Sorry Hood, but from her cellphone records, there's someone else in her life she's very devoted to."

"And there went his last sliver of a chance," Spoiler said jokingly.

"Focus on the mission," Alfred told them sternly, with that tone of voice that suggested he'd been waiting for Batman to step in and was disappointed he hadn't. Hey, at least Jason himself had absolutely zero illusions about Bruce's willingness to stop any of the bullshit if they weren't in an active, dangerous situation. His level of emotional constipation, which he would freely admit was pretty high, was still nothing compared to his adoptive father's.

He arrived near the motel at 17:09. Only a few minutes to spare before Marinette would risk it alone.

"ETA 17:11, Hood. Wait for backup," Nightwing urged. "If she's in there, we can get to her quicker with the three of us."

"ETA 17:14. Robin and Superboy, subtly check out the south warehouse. Red Robin, we're going for the north one."

His first instinct was to rush in, to get to her as quickly as possible. Years as a vigilante and, somewhat temporarily, a criminal had taught him it wasn't a good idea. Better to first scope out the location, make sure you were prepared for whatever they were gonna throw at you, and then crush them.

And hey, it had the added advantage of making Nightwing feel like he was actually listening. Who knew, maybe he'd actually be able to keep Batman from going on at least half his rant.

Ha, he mentally scoffed. Unlikely.

This was the place. It looked abandoned at first glance, certainly, and there were no obvious guards. But he could see the cameras pointed at the entrances, and the blackout curtains that'd prevent any light from getting out and betraying their presence.

Knocking out the cameras would be easy, but it'd almost certainly give away that someone was there. Especially since they had to consider that, despite their preventative measures, people would be looking for them. The Justice League was looking for them.

A motel might have invested in soundproofing rooms, but it was highly unlikely. Considering its look, wasting money on soundproofing seemed like something they wouldn't have been able to afford. Except there were some places that only soundproofed their biggest, most expensive rooms, which were usually on the top floor.

The other option was the basement, meaning the two most likely options had four floors separating them.

That was a lot when every second counted.

Nightwing and Spoiler dropped down on either side of him. "Observations?"

"Suite on the top floor or the basement could have soundproofing," he reported. As long as he focused on the mission and didn't think too much about who was in there and why they needed fucking soundproofing, he'd manage. He didn't have time to panic. "Cameras on all the entrances, all the blinds closed so no idea how many are in there."

"One suite on the top floor has soundproofing – on the east, facing the water," Oracle informed them. "Basement has what used to be a recreation room, also has soundproofing."

"Split up?" Spoiler asked.

Jason shook his head. "Basement. Easier to control the entrances and no window that'll shatter without difficulty."

She looked at Nightwing, who technically had seniority on this mission. His oldest brother, in turn, assessed him. Then, after seconds that felt like hours, he nodded. "Alright, we head for the basement. Front doors or back entrance?"

"Front doors." The fact that it sounded like the dumbest option made it more likely that their enemy wouldn't expect it, and unlike the sturdy back entrance, they were largely made of said easily shattered glass.

"Be careful," Nightwing ordered.

"As I can be," he confirmed. He'd do Marinette absolutely no good if he got killed or severely injured before even getting her out. On the other hand, if he had to choose who'd take a hit between the two of them, he'd throw himself in front of her every time.

He and Nightwing hit the front doors at the same time, breaking through the glass and rolling into fighting stances as they assessed the enemies around them – six with tasers, two with guns. Easy.

Spoiler joined them in time to intercept the reinforcements that came running from upstairs, most of whom were also carrying tasers instead of guns. They might have the numbers, but the stairs limited their space and gave her a distinct advantage.

If Jason hit a little harder than was absolutely necessary, no one remarked upon it.

"We'll hold them off here," Nightwing told him. "Get to the basement."

He wasted no time, sprinting off to the door Oracle had told him led downstairs. As he opened it, two more guards were just running up the stairs. He felt no regret whatsoever as he jumped straight at them, kicking them right back down the stairs without a care as to whether they'd break something.

Rolling himself back upright as the three of them hit the basement floor, he threw his arm up just in time to redirect the gun aimed at him, the bullet hitting the wall instead. Two more hits and the guy was down, his ribs very likely broken and his arm certainly broken. Another had been running down the hall in his direction but, upon seeing his colleague go down, turned right back around. To where Marinette probably was.

Two shots with the gun he'd lifted off the previous guard and one collarbone and one kneecap were never going to be the same.

It might have been the hardest thing he'd ever done, balancing being careful about anyone else that might sneak up on him and attack with getting to Marinette as quickly as possible. But no one else showed up as he made his way down the hallway, checking every door he passed.

And then a guard staggered backwards out of a doorway at the end of the hallway, looking dazed. A beer bottle followed after him, hitting him straight in the forehead and knocking him down to the floor.

Jason reached him before he had a chance to recover, stepping on the hand holding a taser hard enough to break both the wrist and the taser with an audible crack. As he whimpered, Jason rammed his head into the floor hard enough to knock him out.

Marinette, was the first thing he registered. Marinette, crouched behind an overturned table in a way he recognized meant she was ready to move and attack. Marinette, one hand holding a leather strap with what looked like a paperweight tied at the end, the other holding one of the tasers the guards had been holding. Marinette, looking at him warily but not instantly attacking. Marinette, bruised and bleeding and alive.

A quick look around the room made something inside him break. There was the chair she'd been tied to, one of the straps missing. Some chairs and tables, bottles of beer, and filming equipment. The sheets he'd seen on the videos, hanging behind the chair. A small collection of tasers and a few guns, right by the same table she was standing at. And seven guards spread across the room, all of them knocked out cold.

"Found her," he managed to address the others, too overwhelmed to even care if his voice modulator registered the way his voice cracked. "Safe."

Then he turned off his comm, because he couldn't have them talking, have them listening.

And he rushed to Marinette, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter than he should, and he was holding her.

A small part of his mind remarked that he was lucky she didn't appear to feel threatened by him, or he'd likely have been tasered for walking up to her so quickly and invading her personal space like he had any right to. Because she knew him as Jason, but not as Red Hood.

Hesitantly, she put her own arms around him, and he realized he was shaking. "You're safe," he gasped, not sure if he was saying it for her or for himself or for them both. "You're safe."

He had to let her go. He knew he did, but he wasn't sure he could.

"Fuck, I was so worried. Please never, ever do that again," he begged, no longer giving a shit about keeping his identity secret. "I know it wasn't your fault and you couldn't help it but this was one of the absolute worst days of my life. I was so fucking terrified I'd end up having to watch you die, Pixie."

It was obvious when she registered what he was saying, because she tensed in his arms, leaning her head back just a little to look at his helmet. "Jay?" Her voice was hesitant, and a little hoarse, but it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. (Even though his trigger finger itched at the thought that it was hoarse because she'd been screaming, because she was being fucking tortured.)

"I can't lose you, ma moitié."

Now that she knew it was him, the difference was immediately obvious – while she'd been hesitant and cautious before, now she practically burrowed herself into his arms, like she couldn't get close enough. Which he could only approve of, curling around her so tightly it'd be near impossible for anyone to get to her without having to go through him first.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," she whispered, one small hand running up and down his back as if to comfort him.

Fuck, he wanted so badly to take off his helmet and be able to look her without any barriers between them. But they weren't somewhere safe, and he knew Batman and his demon offspring would murder him (figuratively for the first, possibly literally for the second) if they found out he'd taken off his mask for someone they thought was an unknown civilian.

"I don't know what's gonna happen or where you're gonna go after this, but can I please stay with you?" he practically begged. He didn't want to let her go at all, and the idea of her being out of his sight made him try to pull her even closer.

"Of course. Of course," she whispered, holding him tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Jason assured her, a little calmer now that he was holding her and capable of defending her. "Don't be sorry."

"I'd have said something if I'd known," she insisted, sounding distressed. "Once we're somewhere safe, we're going to talk, okay?"

"I know I should have told you about all of this sooner." His voice was shaky, though the voice modulator covered most of it, and he was still trembling. Would she hate him for not telling her the truth? "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, no, no," Marinette gently told him, one arm coming up so she could put her hand on his still-covered cheek. Fuck, he wished he could feel her. "We had an agreement, remember? We don't lie to each other, and when there's something we can't talk about, either for ourselves or because others, we admit that and we drop the subject until we are. There's things I haven't told you about yet, for various reasons, and that I… want, or at least need to talk to you about. But that doesn't mean that you have to, mon âme, and it certainly doesn't mean that you should have told me anything before you wanted to."

"I love you." It wasn't the first time he'd told her, and if he had his way it would be far from the last, but it had never felt so urgent before. He could have lost her today, and he didn't know what he'd have done if he had. It wouldn't have been good.

"Tu es l'amour de ma vie," she whispered softly, lovingly from her place in his arms, and he felt like he could finally breathe after drowning for hours.

He had her, and she was safe. He kept repeating it to himself, knowing they didn't have a lot of time until they had to leave, and let it steady him. She was safe and he could protect her now, could make sure she wouldn't get hurt again, could make sure he wouldn't lose her. He had her.

Far too soon, he heard someone approaching. Long experience had taught him to recognize Nightwing's gait.

Regretfully, he let go of Marinette, though he still stuck close enough he could feel her warmth from where she stood, beside and slightly behind him. Her small hand was resting on his back, and he realized she didn't want to let him go, either.

His brother immediately looked around the room, assessing, before his gaze landed on the two of them. "We should have all the ones upstairs secured," Nightwing reported. "Good job on the ones in here."

"Oh no, the guys in this room are all hers," Jason informed him, pride showing through. "And so is the guy right outside the door, mostly."

With the first rush of adrenaline and fear and relief having passed, his brain was now catching up. And besides his horrified terror at the possibility of losing her, he was finally processing the scene he'd walked in on. The scene where his tiny, delicate-seeming soulmate had gotten herself out of her bindings and had single-handedly taken out seven and a half men that were significantly larger than her and had been armed.

And for the first time since meeting her, that terrified, desperate part of him that screamed that he would lose her if he got too close quieted a little.

He'd known his brother long enough to recognize his initial surprise at Jason's statement, as well as the difference in how he regarded her - she'd gone from vulnerable civilian to competent civilian in his estimations.

"I'm impressed, miss," he told her, laying the charm on thick, as seemed to come almost naturally to him. "Also, Hood, they told me to let you know to turn your comm back on. And we need to get these guys tied up before they wake up."

Once he activated his comm, he had to suppress his wince at the way all of them immediately started berating him. Yeah, that was really good motivation to get him to keep it on – like he didn't hear enough of their bitching on a regular day. "I didn't need the fucking distraction," he growled once they finally quieted a little, zip-tying the last of the assholes in the room.

"Trying to see if you could get yourself a gratitude kiss from your hopeless crush?" Red Robin asked, chuckling a little at his own joke.

"Trying to comfort the damsel in distress?" Spoiler followed soon after.

"Anyone got something useful to say? Or I'm shutting this shit right back down."

"Ohhh, sensitive subject," Oracle joked, though at least she did get back to business. "Batman and Red Robin will be there in two minutes, Robin and Superboy are checking out the surroundings just in case and should be close in another four minutes. Police will be there in twelve, ambulance in seventeen."

"Cancel the ambulance," he told her, ignoring her immediate protests (and the others' – even Nightwing, in the room with him, turned to him with a startled 'what?') to turn to face Marinette. "Medically, what do you want… or need?"

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing that needs a professional, honestly…" She grimaced a little, and Jason knew she wasn't too fond of doctors, or hospitals. It was something they had in common, though for different reasons. "I guess everyone else would be a lot more reassured if I saw a doctor, though. But I'd really prefer no hospitals, if possible."

"Could you check if Dr. Thompkins is available, A?"

"Calling right now, sir," Alfred confirmed.

"How are you planning to get her there without an ambulance, genius?" Red Robin asked. "Or is this an excuse to ride the Batmobile?"

"Maybe it's an excuse to get close on his motorcycle," Spoiler joked, and Jason heard the echo of Nightwing laughing into his comm and standing near him in the room. "Nice and cozy, and she'll have to hold on tight not to fall off."

"Can all of you imbeciles cease joking about Hood's ill-fated dalliance and get him away from his distressed damsel before he actually takes off his mask in hopes she won't run screaming?" Robin snarled.

It was times like these that Jason kind of hated his family.

And it was times like these that he felt absolutely justified in not telling them about his soulmate.

"Miss," Nightwing walked up to Marinette, smarmy smile on his stupid face, "it might be best if you come with me, and I'll make sure to get you safely to the doctor we have contacted, alright? Red Hood can be a bit… much."

He better be damn grateful that Jason was trying his very best not to get too aggressive in front of his soulmate, or he'd have received a punch in the face at least. Green was flashing in front of his eyes as he tried to regain control without giving anything away, and the mask was the only reason no one saw the vicious snarl on his face.

Marinette was not having it, though, stepping back from Nightwing and glancing at Jason. "Thank you," she said neutrally, "but your teammate has been nothing but kind to me, and I trust him to get me to where I need to be."

"Ah." Nightwing seemed a little uncertain now, very unused to victims not taking to him immediately. "Still, he has other obligations at the moment, so…"

"I do not," Jason told him, voice as even as possible and very aware of the gun he was still holding, "have other obligations. And Miss Dupain-Cheng is free to choose whose assistance she prefers after being kidnapped, for her own comfort, rather than be railroaded into what you think is best."

"Red Hood," Batman growled, "back off."

"I am not leaving unless she wants me to," he snarled back, frustration with his family making his violent urges surge in a way he hated.

He didn't want her to see him like this.

Miraculously, she did not appear deterred by him. "I would prefer that you stay," she addressed him, rather than Nightwing. The absolute faith in her eyes made him take a deep breath. "I trust you."

It was probably fortunate for Jason's control and his family's health that Alfred was the next person to speak on the comms. "Dr. Thompkins is expecting Miss Dupain-Cheng. Would it be possible to give a brief inventory of likely injuries that need to be attended to?"

Ignoring Nightwing like she had, he turned to fully face Marinette. "The doctor asked if you have an idea of the injuries you got."

Her discomfort rose, and she half-shrugged. She was far too used to having to deal with everything herself, and as much as he genuinely liked her parents, he couldn't help but occasionally want to shake them and ask why she always thought she was a bother when she even remotely needed to ask for help for anything.

"Ehm… A couple of bruises from when they grabbed me, and maybe my left wrist is sprained? I think some burns from their tasers, they liked to use those, and, well… from the chair. And my muscles are kind of… jumpy? They sometimes ah… frissonnent?" she tried to explain, curling in on herself a little, carefully not looking at any of the tied-up men in the room.

Seeing her like that, so small and fucking vulnerable, made him ready to burn the entire fucking world down. She was cheerful, and bright, and loving. And now she was hurt because some fuckwits thought she was the best way to get to some magical fucking jewelry.

"And which of these fuckers is the one that tortured you?" His grip tightened on the gun as fury surged through him once again.

Fuck, her scream.

"Hood," Nightwing started, cautiously moving closer.

"Hey," Marinette said softly, laying a gentle hand on his forearm and waiting until he turned to look down at her. Her stunning blue eyes were so bright they almost seemed to glow as she smiled up at him. "'All friends shall taste the wages of their virtue, and all foes the cup of their deserving'. They will pay their dues, I promise you."

The Madness called to him, and he forced himself to focus on her presence. He found that he didn't want to shoot or beat someone up in front of her. As stupid as it might seem, he didn't want her to see or experience that side of him. Not when she was so adorably, unapologetically good.

Faintly, he could hear Red Robin wonder if she'd actually just quoted Shakespeare at him, and Oracle joking that there went their chance at him quickly getting over his silly crush, but Marinette made it easier to ignore them.

"One of the getaway cars will be at your location in four minutes," Alfred informed him, and Jason decided that he'd ask Marinette to help him make some of those delicious macarons his adopted grandfather always loved. At least there was one person he wasn't ashamed to call family. (He might consider telling Cass, despite her closeness with the Replacement and Steph, but he was still on the fence about that.)

"Thanks, A." Batman had long ago placed some inconspicuous cars with tinted windows around Gotham, just in case they ever needed subtle transportation. And for all that their outside looked like the typical Gotham car, they incorporated some of the fancy technical details of the Batmobile. Including remote driving.

Ignoring the protests he could hear over his comm, he escorted Marinette outside and to the car, taking note of the way she moved carefully to avoid as much pain as possible. Absently, he considered the fact that she was still moving alright on her own. In combination with her taking out the guys in the room with her, he hoped that meant she wasn't too hurt, rather than ignoring the extent of her pain. That ability usually came with being used to pain, after all.

"Ehm, Red Hood? Could I quickly call Adrien?" she asked him when they were in the car. He'd managed to shake off anyone wanting to get in with them, but he knew Red Robin and Spoiler were following on a motorcycle and they could still be heard.

Fortunately, Marinette seemed to have realized this as well, and continued to act as though he was simply a helpful but unfamiliar vigilante.

"The car's system can patch you through to him, if you remember his number," he confirmed. "If not, I'm sure Oracle could help you out."

She wasted no time, quickly figuring out how the car's system worked and inputting the number. Adrien picked up after the first ring. "Marinette?" was the first thing he asked, voice panicked. Jason had met the former model, now schoolteacher before, and had liked him well enough. He seemed to adore Marinette, more than anyone except his soulmate, which was a big point in his favor. He was also unfailingly kind and cheerful, if a bit naïve, and Jason had no trouble believing he'd been unaware of and uninvolved in his father's activities as Hawkmoth.

"Hey Sunshine," she greeted him affectionately, and Jason noticed the way she tried to hide the hoarseness of her voice. "Just wanted to call to let you know I'm safe and alright, so you don't have to worry anymore."

"How did you get out? Did Ladybug show up? Are you hurt?"

"No Ladybug and Chat Noir, but Alya would be so jealous," she kept her voice cheerful, "because I was in Gotham, and guess who came to the rescue?"

"Wow, Batman?" Adrien sounded very impressed.

"Batman and his team," Marinette confirmed. "I'm currently on my way to get checked out, because apparently that's protocol or something, even though I keep telling them I'm not really hurt, but I should be back home and safe again in a few hours at most."

"Not really hurt meaning…" Yeah, he definitely knew her very well.

"Meaning I've got a couple of bruises from when they grabbed me, and because one of them is on my face I can't get away with saying I'm not hurt," she grumbled, very carefully not mentioning anything about the tasers or the electrocution.

"Do you want me to come over to your place? I'm absolutely certain my amazing soulmate would understand, probably even come with," he offered.

"Nah, you two have your usual date night," she immediately turned him down. "I was planning on calling my own soulmate to come over, actually. I'm not sure if he caught any of this, but I really want to see him now."

"I know I was asked not to let anyone know, and unless he regularly checks Alya's blog, he should still be in the dark. And Alya was careful not to name you, so…"

"Ugh… Can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything," he agreed immediately.

"Could you get in touch with Alya and let her know I'm fine? I promise I'll call her tomorrow with some more details, but…"

"I get it," he assured her. "She can be a bit… much, and I bet you'd rather just get your cuddle on with tall, dark and handsome." The grin was audible in his voice now, and he sounded far calmer than he had when he'd picked up.

Marinette just chuckled, not showing any signs of embarrassment even with him sitting right next to her, and he thanked whatever force was responsible for soulmates for giving him her. Knowing how easily she usually got flustered, it only proved to him how comfortable she was with him, how comfortable she felt to be herself. How comfortable she was with loving him.

Despite now knowing the secret he'd been keeping from her since they'd met.

He listened quietly as she and Adrien said their goodbyes, promising to meet up the next day so he could see with his own eyes that she was alright. Once she'd hung up, she kept tapping at the interface. "Can this send messages, too?" she asked.

"It should, though it'll be from an untraceable number," he confirmed, somewhat mystified. "Why?"

"I'm pretty sure my soulmate is still at work, so I can't really call him right now, but I figured it'd probably be a good idea to send a message. I don't even know where my cellphone ended up…"

"Good idea," he agreed, face relaxing into a grin at her dedication to his request to hide things from his family. It was easy to ignore their continued teasing about his unattainable 'crush' already having a soulmate as she sent a message to the silent burner phone he used to communicate with her without his family's nosy interference.

Damn, how had he gotten this lucky?

Chapter Text

Relief filled him as they finally closed her apartment door behind them.

With some assistance from Alfred and the convenient excuse of him getting pissed off at his family being a bunch of dickbags as they jokingly consoled him about his doomed love and tragic heartbreak, he'd been able to go off the grid and subtly pick her up from Dr. Thompkins' clinic as her soulmate without anyone noticing it was him.

They'd held hands for most of the journey back to New York, silently processing everything that had happened and taking comfort in each other's presence.

Once they were finally home, both took a quick shower and changed into something more comfortable, and Jason prepared them both some equally quick sandwiches for dinner while she was busy. He rewrapped her wrist and made sure she iced it while she was eating.

And then finally, finally it was just the two of them. Wanting her as close as possible, but aware that the bed implied a different kind of intimacy, he gently led her to the couch. She followed him easily, clearly just as eager to be close – ever since he'd picked her up from the clinic, she'd held his hand whenever possible.

When they sat down, he gently pulled her to sit on his lap, facing him. The slight weight of her was reassuring, and he ran his hands over her arms, her back, her sides, confirming that she was with him, that she was alive and breathing.

She allowed it, closing her eyes with a happy sigh and practically melting into his touch. Then she opened them again, and he was mystified when she looked regretful. "I'm so sorry, mon âme," she whispered as she leaned her forehead against his. "I swear I would've talked to you sooner if I'd known you would see it."

"You said that before, too," he realized. "Did you plan this?"

"No," she denied instantly. "No, I didn't. But... I had no idea who, or when, or how. But it wasn't... It wasn't completely unexpected."

That made more sense than he wanted it to, honestly. "Yeah, I can see how that'd be the case. Considering how easy it was to find your connection to the Parisian heroes with just a little effort. It's like they barely even tried to hide it for more than the form of it."

"That..." Marinette winced a little. "That's not entirely inaccurate."

"Wait, what?" Jason tensed.

"It was..." She trailed off with a frown, and he recognized it as the expression she usually had when she was trying to figure out how to best say something.

"The world these days is... different from how it was in the past. Metas have become far more common, and digitalization has made it possible to spread all kinds of information in the blink of an eye."

Jason forced himself to remain silent, trusting that she was telling him this for a reason.

"Even with all of that, the Miraculous are powerful, potentially dangerously so. The ones that Hawkmoth was after, the Ladybug and the Black Cat… When combined, they can be used to make a wish. Any wish. It's an awful idea, and there is always a terrible price to be paid, but… People, when determined or evil or desperate or a combination of them, they tend to ignore that, or they don't care as long as they get what they want.

"After Paris, after everything that happened with Hawkmoth, the knowledge of the Miraculous spread. To other heroes, to regular people… and to those who wanted that wish for themselves. Everyone knew suddenly, and people wanted to claim them to make a wish. So Chat Noir and Ladybug retired permanently and the Miraculous disappeared again, and no one knew where.

"It was… I wouldn't say common knowledge, but there was a high probability that people would come looking for them eventually. And with Chat Noir and Ladybug gone…"

"You set yourself up as bait," Jason realized, horrified. "You made sure those pictures and videos were out there and you made it seem like there was some effort made to hide them so people would think it was a secret."

Fuck. It wasn't even a bad plan, technically, except his soulmate had used herself for bait.

What if they hadn't made it in time? What if her kidnappers had hurt her even worse? What if they'd killed her before someone had shown up or before she was able to get out?

"It'll probably sound weird," she confessed, unwittingly interrupting his spiraling thoughts, "but I was actually relieved. Because they'd come after me, and not any of the others."

"And you thought I wouldn't know." He wasn't sure what he was even feeling anymore.

"I thought it could be dealt with and I could tell you a watered-down version of it all afterwards," she admitted. "I didn't expect..."

He couldn't forget the way she'd screamed as they electrocuted her. Couldn't forget that she was still bruised, couldn't forget the damn burn marks from the electrocution and the tasers, couldn't forget the feeling of helpless rage as they worked against the clock to find her before she could be hurt more or, in the worst case, killed. His arms tightened around her at his spiraling thoughts.

"Chat Noir and Ladybug were never going to show up," she confessed softly but with absolute certainty, pulling him out of his head. "I knew they wouldn't."

"Then why?"

"Because now other people know it as well. And hopefully, that means they will figure out that Chat Noir and Ladybug were being truthful when they told Paris they would disappear."

"Damn it, Pixie," he sighed, torn between rage at just about everything and resigned exasperation. With her in his lap, it was infinitely easier to breathe through the Madness, though it still took a couple of minutes.

She was safe now.

He had her.

"Jason... I know it was horrible, and I am so sorry for that," she apologized again, "but I promise you that I was never in mortal danger, and I was always going to come back to you. I always will."

"You can't promise that." It felt like his lungs had stopped working properly. "There is no way you can promise that."

"Yes I can," she told him, looking him straight in the eyes. "I can promise that and I do promise that."

"How?" he asked her, barely suppressing the desperation he was feeling.

Marinette stilled, looking at him. Her breaths started to come quicker, more superficially, and she closed her eyes and breathed in the way he had come to know as a way of staving off panic attacks.

He swallowed. As much as he wanted to know, as much as he needed to hear it... "We had a deal," he told her as calmly as he could, though his hands tightened around her waist. "If you're not ready to talk about it yet..."

But she took another deep breath and looked at him in determination. "Chat Noir and Ladybug... I wasn't just friends with them, mon âme," she confessed, and for a brief moment he wondered if that meant the three had dated.

But her breathing was speeding up now, despite her previous efforts, and he could tell she was headed straight into an anxiety attack.

"Hey, Pixie, no. Look at me, alright? Breathe with me, ma moitié. I'm not going anywhere. Deep breath…"

She held his gaze, and he was horrified at the sheer depth of her desperate fear. "No, it's… I've never really been able to tell anyone before, ever," she confessed, voice little more than a whisper. "I want to, but… Telling anyone… I'm terrified because I… It wasn't allowed. It was forbidden. Because it was too dangerous, and telling anyone could... It could be a disaster. It was a disaster. Still could be, maybe. I can still see… All the water, and the moon, and… And Monarch the other time… All because someone knew and it was always so awful and my fault and… And I…"

Seeing the tears pooling in her eyes, Jason pulled her closer, hugging her tightly. Being held like that usually had a grounding effect on her, calming her when she was overwhelmed.

He could feel the way she gasped for breath, hands clutching his shirt so tightly he actually worried she'd cut herself on her own nails right through the fabric, and desperately tried to figure out what he could do to help.

Suddenly, before he could think of something, Marinette pulled back slightly - just enough to be able to meet his eyes.

"I was Ladybug."

They both froze.

They both stopped breathing.

For a few seconds, everything was still.

"Aw, hell, love," Jason whispered, heart breaking at how utterly terrified she looked. He pulled her tightly to his chest, feeling how she buried her face into his shoulder as she gasped and shivered. "C'mere, sweetheart. I got you. You're alright, Pixie. I got you."

He rocked her gently, murmuring assurances and endearments as his shoulder grew wet from her tears. He couldn't muster up any surprise at feeling a few tears run down his own face.

Fuck, but the entire Paris situation had been horrifying enough when he'd thought the heroes had been adults, if young ones. But considering her age… Hell, she couldn't have been older than fourteen when the entire mess had started and the fate of an entire city ended up on her shoulders.

Fuck, his soulmate had been a superhero. Had never stopped being one, in some ways.

Faintly, in the back of his mind, there was the hysterical thought that he had, in fact, gotten a soulmate that could hand his ass to him. Except instead of taking out her issues on others, like so many others in his life (including himself, at least until he'd met her and realized he didn't ever want to hurt her), she had chosen to remain kind and caring.

"I've got you, sweetheart. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe, everything's alright. Deep breaths, ma moitié, you can do it."

After what had to be at least half an hour, she finally calmed down enough to stop shaking.

"I'm so sorry I'm such a mess," she whispered, dejected.

Jason couldn't help but snort. "I'd be a complete hypocrite to say anything about that, Pixie. I ain't exactly the most well-adjusted myself, in case you hadn't noticed."

He grinned when that got a watery chuckle from her. "Still, there's… so much to explain."

She sounded utterly exhausted, and Jason shook his head. "It can wait. I'm not going anywhere, and you need sleep. Hell, we both do." He winced a little. "There's stuff I… want to, need to tell you as well. But today's been shit, and we… I think it's best if we rest first, yeah?"

Marinette raised her eyes to meet his, and he hated to see her fatigue and pain. If only there was something for him to fight.

"I love you, Jason," she told him seriously, maintaining eye contact. "And I feel so lucky that you are my soulmate."

"Right back atcha, Pixie," he told her softly, leaning down and kissing her far more gently than he'd ever thought he'd be capable of before meeting her. Her soft, happy sigh as she leaned into his kiss nearly undid him.

They'd figure it all out, together, once they felt a little less like death warmed over.

That night, despite their exhaustion, Marinette had two nightmares that Jason helped her calm down from, holding her and whispering that he had her. He had another one himself, flashes of electricity and crowbars and being powerless and making a futile attempt to dig his way out of the ground as he heard her scream and suffer, and she was the one who woke him up and held her while reassuring him that he had her.

It wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. It was them, and that was far more important.

So Marinette started working trackers into the clothing she made herself, and Jason gained a few new accessories and a few new items to add to his groceries. They trained together regularly, both with and without enhancements. He taught her how to shoot a gun and how to fight someone without being able to depend on the Miraculous, and she taught him how kindness could be a strength and that, with enough creativity, anything can be used to get out of a tight situation with as little violence as possible.

He read books, sometimes out loud, while Marinette designed. She worked on translating the Miraculous grimoire and fulfilling her Guardian duties while Jason maintained his weapons.

She taught him how to cook and bake and he taught her how to drive a motorcycle. She knitted and sewed new items for the street kids and the homeless in Gotham and New York and Jason occasionally taught self-defense as a volunteer in both cities. The commute could be tedious, especially when he could hardly wait to see her again, but he reminded himself every time that it was more than worth it to have the best part of his life staying the hell away from the utterly insane shitshow that was Gotham.

He told her about his mother, about being Robin, about his birth mother and the Joker and the agony and the emptiness and the things he had done after the Lazarus Pit. She told him about being thirteen and feeling the weight of an entire city on her shoulders because she'd helped a man cross the street safely, about the destruction and the horror and the death and how it all got repaired so the only damage was inside where it couldn't afford to be due to Hawkmoth and his refusal to learn from his never-ending failure to get the two Miraculous.

Back when he was young, he'd dreamed of what his soulmate would be like, what it would feel like. His dreams had been so ambitious, so hopeful.

Somehow, reality was even better.

And if Red Hood's new, redesigned helmet occasionally hid cat ears, or if he was occasionally shadowed by a smaller, black-clad figure going by 'Echo', whose padded suit obscured both their gender and various distinguishing animal features, well… No one needed to know.

Chapter Text

Jason had considered simply keeping her a secret for however long he could, but… It wasn't fair to Marinette to make her keep hiding their relationship. Plus, as terrifying as the thought of everyone in his life knowing about her was, he kind of wanted to show her off. He wanted to brag about his amazing soulmate.

After he'd proposed to her, he thought about it even more. No matter his issues with his family, he did want them there at his wedding.

So in the end, it became more of a question of 'when' and 'how' than 'if'.

He'd enjoyed thinking about a bunch of very petty ideas: letting them find out via the media, letting them find out by 'accidentally' bumping into them during an event he was attending with Marinette, letting them find out by casually mentioning his impending wedding while as many of them as possible were drinking or taking a bite, letting them find out at the wedding itself… He'd considered all of them.

Had he still been the same asshole he'd been before meeting Marinette, he'd likely have gone for one of them. As the asshole he was after meeting Marinette, well…

For his 70th birthday, Alfred had requested (after being informed by the rest of the family that 'letting it pass by without notice' was not an option) that the entire family get together for a meal. Soulmates included.

He'd discussed it with his surrogate grandfather, who had told him that he would completely understand if he would still like to keep Marinette a secret, but that he would be beyond delighted to have her be there, rather than meeting up at a later time with her and Jason in private. Moreover, he would appreciate some of the actual attention being drawn away from himself.

It had been agreed that all of them would bring something they'd cooked themselves so Alfred wouldn't have to, and Jason couldn't wait. Bruce had never learned to cook and it was a toss-up between whether he'd try to put in the effort and poison them all or admit defeat and have something catered, though Selina might at least make something edible, though basic, if she got over her hatred of cooking. Dick's idea of cuisine was cereal and Barbara existed on take-out and Alfred's cooking. Tim couldn't make anything except coffee and Steph's food of choice was waffles. Damian and the youngest Kent wouldn't have the faintest idea where to begin, especially since Bruce's youngest would never ask any of Jon's family for help, and were most likely to just throw together a salad and (in Hellspawn's case) glare at them until they ate it. Cass also hadn't ever learned to cook, but Marinette had been kind enough to offer some assistance to her and her soulmate, Luka.

In all likelihood, their group would be the only one that showed up with something they'd not only made themselves, but that was actually appetizing.

They drove their cars up to one of the side entrances to the Wayne mansions, where Alfred had, as they had agreed, left a couple of service carts so they could transport the food they'd made. Marinette absolutely loved making things for others, especially those she cared about. That included food, and considering his guesses about the rest of his family's contributions… Well, she'd pretty much gone all out, with Jason, Cass and Luka taking her directions and assisting as much as they could.

As they walked up to the dining room, pushing three serving carts loaded with food, Jason could already hear the others' voices drifting from the doorway.

"It's a salad," Drake was arguing, and Jason wanted to cackle.

"At least it's edible," Demon Spawn snarled back, "which is more than can be said of your… whatever that is meant to be."

"It's soup!"

"Are you sure?" Dick asked, sounding impressively hesitant.

"Might've gone over better if you'd just heated it from a can, honestly," Barbara suggested laughingly.

There was a conspicuous silence.

"Wait, that's soup from a can?"

"How did you even manage that?"

"I didn't realize it wasn't supposed to be actively boiling," Tim defended himself sullenly. "And it's not like yours is any better! The only thing that might even be edible in here is Damian's salad, because that's just a bunch of vegetables thrown together!"

"I'm pretty sure there's supposed to be some sort of dressing on that, actually." Steph sounded incredibly amused, always willing and ready to make fun of their family. "But I did bring some waffles, so there's at least something to eat?"

"Dry waffles," Dick said, equally dryly.

"Excuse me, you eat dry cereal," was her immediate retort, "so I don't think you have much of a right to judge here. What is your contribution even supposed to be?"

"Look, it wasn't my fault I burned it, okay? How was I supposed to know it was going to grow when I put it in the oven?"

"The smoke alarm was very loud," Barbara agreed.

"We're so sorry, Alfred," Bruce finally spoke up, sounding genuinely regretful. Clearly, his contribution also hadn't been a success. "I can get a restaurant to cater, and at least we'll all still be here."

"Ehh, still missing two of your collection," Selina reminded him. "They could've brought something that won't give any of us food poisoning."

"I'm not sure Cass knows how to cook, actually," Steph admitted. "It might not be a lot better than what we've already got here."

"And I don't think I've ever seen Jason cook," Dick added.

"Ehm…" Jon had been surprisingly silent so far, and Jason guessed he'd actually heard them coming. Not to mention he could look through the wall of the dining room, meaning he could see exactly what they'd brought with them.

Taking that as a cue, Cass and Luka pushed their service cart into the room, to astonished exclamations.

"You know we were supposed to make something ourselves, right?"

"Yeah, this looks like outside catering."

Jason could practically see the grin on Cass' face. "Group effort."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dick asked.

"Means we worked together on getting some actually edible food, rather than…" Walking into the room, Jason caught a first look at the stuff the others had brought, and he couldn't help his distasteful grimace at the various shades of brown. "Than that." Demon Spawn's bare-bones salad did actually look somewhat palatable next to all of it.

He could tell the exact moment they all caught sight of Marinette, who walked in behind him. There was an instant awkwardness as they looked at one another as if for answers.

Marinette, sincere smile covering the humor in her eyes at the situation, skillfully ignored all of them to address Jason's adoptive grandfather. "Joyeux anniversaire, Alfred!" Leaving Jason to push her service cart up to the table along with his own, she walked up to the older man, pushing up to her toes to be able to reach his face for her standard bises.

Alfred leaned over to make it easier, smiling gently. "Thank you very much, Marinette." Looking over at the service carts, which Jason and Luka were now unloading onto the table, he raised his eyebrows. "I presume I have you to thank for the food?"

"Oh no, certainly not just me. As Cass said, it was a group effort."

"Which certainly would have turned out worse without you advising us," Jason reminded her, grinning.

It might be petty, but the stunned looks on everyone's faces were hilarious. A quick look over at Cass showed that she agreed, and he hadn't missed the flash of amusement on Alfred's face, either.

"Head chef," Cass agreed.

"Maybe," Marinette granted, because even she couldn't deny that she'd clearly been in charge of the kitchen, "but I know for a fact you all would have managed edible dishes even without me."

"Just not as many," Luka chuckled.

"Or as intricate," Jason added, still grinning.

"Or tasty," Cass contributed.

"Don't listen to them," Marinette huffed and rolled her eyes. "Cass and Jason were the ones who came up with the dishes because they knew what you like, and Luka was the one who tracked down some of the rarer ingredients. Not to mention they all helped with the actual cooking. Teamwork."

"Yes, we were all very important," Jason sighed, rolling his eyes as well, "and you're the reason it all came out perfect."

"One of four reasons," she insisted, puffing up indignantly at their insistence on emphasizing her contribution and minimizing their own, and she was honestly making him so damn soft. He was pretty sure he hadn't quite managed to keep the soppy look off his face.

"Sure," Luka humored her with a fond look that Marinette just appeared to inspire in everyone that got to know her.

"It's just not fair," Marinette insisted earnestly, frowning at them. "Just because I have a better idea of what to do in a kitchen does not mean that any of you contributed any less."

All three of them realized at the same time that she had moved past joking now, her strong aversion to injustice demanding that they all get the credit for the dishes they'd brought, and Jason pulled her into his side.

"It's alright, notre mélodie," Luka assured her calmly. "We know we contributed."

"We were just joking around, Pixie, no worries."

"Group effort," Cass repeated, nodding at Marinette, and Jason could feel her relax into him as they reassured her.

"Regardless, I must thank you all," Alfred nodded at the four of them. "I had wondered if there would be anything to eat. Although I certainly appreciate that everyone tried." He took another amused look at the table, where there was a clear contrast between the dishes that had been there before and the ones that Jason, Cass and Luka had placed on there.

"Yeah, I'm guessing food poisoning isn't the gift you'd want on your birthday," Jason snickered.

"Ehm, excuse me," Dick finally found his voice, "but what the hopping hippos is happening here?"

"Ah yeah, my bad," Jason shrugged. "Ma moitié, I'd like you to meet Bruce and his soulmate, Selina. Then over there is Dick and his soulmate, Barbara. Then Tim and his soulmate, Steph, and Damian and his soulmate, Jon. You already know Cass and Luka, of course. Everyone, this is my fiancée, Marinette."

"Enchantée," she told them all, smiling politely.

"Your what?"

"Since when?"

"Three months and ten days." The memory of it made him smile again, and he knew he looked hopelessly soft when he met Marinette's eyes as she smiled lovingly up at him.

"And when did you two meet?" Selina inquired. Everyone else appeared stunned – they'd helped save Marinette only five months ago, after all.

"A year, three months and ten days ago," Marinette informed her, chuckling as she leaned trustingly against his side. "The hopeless romantic proposed on the anniversary of the day we met."

"You met over a year ago?" Dick squeaked. It was kind of amusing how high his voice went. "But…"

His family exchanged startled glances as they realized that they'd actually been together before Marinette's kidnapping, that his reactions had been due to her being in a relationship with him, and he could almost see them wondering if she knew about their extracurricular activities. And if she was his soulmate or if he was one of the people that had decided to choose their own fate.

"Congratulations," Jon told them cheerfully, walking up to shake Marinette's hand. As grating as it could sometimes be, his optimism was like a breath of fresh air in their family.

"Thank you," Marinette replied, smiling back at him just as brightly. Faintly, he could hear Tim muttering an 'oh God there's two of them', but Jason ignored him in favor of relishing Marinette's joy as she showed off the ring he'd gotten her and the two of them got into a lively conversation about wedding cakes, of all things. It was impossible not to smile down at her, drawn by her energy.

"Am I dreaming?" he heard Steph asking her soulmate, not particularly softly.

Drake seemed just as stunned. "I… Did someone switch my coffee to decaf?"

Bruce's youngest son was glaring at Marinette as she spoke to Jon, and Jason subtly nudged her so he was between the two of them, catching the brat's glare with his own. If he tried anything, Jason had no hesitation about breaking some bones.

Alfred had now joined the conversation as well, making some suggestions, which allowed Jason to relax a little. No one was dumb enough to mess with Alfred.

Taking a quick look around, it was obvious most of them were still caught up in their uncertainty. Selina looked highly amused and sent him a wink, making him grin a little – she'd never aspired to be a mother to any of them, but she loved chaos and could be counted upon to take their side when it came to having some fun. Luka and Cass were the only others that were wholly unaffected, except for their obvious amusement.

"So…" Barbara addressed them, getting over her initial shock. "You already knew Marinette, then?"

Cass huffed out a laugh, and Luka chuckled. "We met through Marinette, actually," he informed her. It had been nearly four months ago now that he'd introduced Cass to his soulmate, who had looked at his favorite sister and asked if she could introduce Cass to a close friend of hers. He wasn't sure if it was some kind of magic, or luck, or simply a wild guess, but Luka and Cass were still extremely grateful to her.

Unlike him, Cass had introduced Luka to the family only a week later, and they'd all been delighted for her. As they should be.

"Ah…" Bruce appeared to be uncertain as to what to say, eyes flicking between Jason and Marinette repeatedly as he tried to assess what she knew and which persona he should use. "Perhaps we should get to our meal?"

Jason made sure that Marinette sat between him and Luka just to be sure. He didn't think anyone would try to hurt her, and he was well-aware she was skilled enough to deal with threats herself (although she sometimes held back too much for fear of hurting someone and probably wouldn't retaliate against his family nearly as strongly as she was capable of), but it helped him feel more at ease. From the way she squeezed his hand, he guessed Marinette knew as much and indulged him. They both had their own traumas and idiosyncrasies.

There was a secure compartment in their car currently containing one pair of glasses, two necklaces, a bracelet, two guns, eight throwing knives and five grenades. Not to mention that Marinette's purse was anything but empty.

As they started eating (and it didn't escape his notice that everyone stuck exclusively to the food the four of them contributed – Marinette had even made sure to carefully label all the dishes, leaving even Damian to try the vegetarian dishes they'd brought), Jason easily alternated conversation partners with the people on their side of the table. He'd honestly have been happy to just stick to Marinette, Cass, Luka, Alfred and Selina for the most part.

It was absolutely no surprise to him that his soulmate easily charmed the rest of them, though. Hell, she'd even occasionally drawn Damian into a conversation without him resorting to threats or violence.

When he got up to grab some more food, taking Marinette's plate for a refill as well since she was busy talking to Cass and Steph, Jason noticed both Dick and Bruce getting up as well. He sighed.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked softly, sounding hurt.

He'd been expecting the question, knew it was coming, but he still wasn't sure how to answer it. Showing weakness was dangerous, and there weren't a lot of people he trusted enough to do so.

Worse – he might trust Dick with the truth, but he didn't trust Bruce. Not enough to be honest about this.

"Does she know?" his adoptive father questioned quietly, glancing back at the table.

"As I'm pretty sure you've already guessed," he replied honestly, not even bothering to lower his voice, "I told her when she was kidnapped."

"And you didn't think to tell us?"

"I'm telling you now," Jason said, shrugging. Honestly, it wasn't like all of their soulmates weren't in the know about their side jobs – most of them were directly involved. "Not like it would've changed anything."

"Did you even think to do a background check on her to see if she was trustworthy?" Bruce accused. "Or were you too distracted by a pretty smile to consider the danger?"

Jason scoffed, unimpressed. "She found out ten months after I met her. How soon did you tell Selina, again? What about Dick and Tim? How long did it take them, exactly? And remind me again, how clean were those background checks you ran on your girlfriend?" Like hell was Bruce in any position to judge here. He also knew for a fact that Cass had told Luka within two weeks of their meeting, though she'd told him Luka had apparently already guessed some of it. "You know perfectly well she's clean – you just can't stand that I didn't tell you."

"And how much did you tell her, exactly? How much of your history did you keep from her?"

The thing about Marinette was that she seemed innocent, and sweet, and naïve. It was a mistake Jason had made as well, thinking she should be kept from all the nasty things that he was far too familiar with. But looks could be deceiving, and she was so much stronger than she looked. "I told her every. Single. Thing." His vicious grin was almost predatory. "My life, my death, the people I've killed and the sanity I've tried to regain. She knows all of it."

Bruce recoiled a little, glancing at the table again, where she was cheerfully discussing favorite pets with Damian and Steph, her smile looking like it lit up the whole room. "Her," Bruce deadpanned, skeptical. "You told her everything. And she's still with you."

"Sure as fuck is," he agreed, increasingly tense. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus on controlling the madness before he did something drastic. He and Bruce maintained eye contact, waiting for the other to give in first and look away.

A small hand came to rest on his arm. "Have you tried the pasta salad that Cass made, M. Wayne?" Instantly, Jason relaxed. Marinette might sound nothing but polite, but he could see the way her smile was a little sharper than her genuine one, as well as the way she positioned herself slightly in front of him.

She was defending him, and from the way both Bruce and Dick looked at her, he knew they'd noticed as well.

Marinette would never be the perfect socialite, all grace and poise, but she had learned some about how to weaponize her enthusiasm and her warmth and her natural ability to draw people in. Within a minute, she was happily chatting away at Bruce about Cass' salad, and then a few of the other dishes they'd prepared, and then Alfred and his birthday.

Not even Bruce was able to resist her, and he soon went from reluctantly charmed to actually amused as they walked down the table for Marinette to show him one of the dishes she'd been told Alfred preferred, telling him all about the adventure getting all the ingredients had been.

It left him with Dick, who looked impressed. "She's something," he remarked, chuckling.

"She's everything," Jason said without thinking, unable to hide the adoring look on his face as he once again thanked his lucky stars (or maybe Tikki, actually – he should ask about that) that Marinette was his.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked again, though a little less hurt and a little more curious this time.

Jason sighed, trying to figure out what to say. "All of you had… You joked a lot, about what my soulmate'd be like," he started, choosing his words carefully. "And I deserve it, I know I do. But she doesn't. Not the teasing, not the jokes, not… not any of the shit I bring. And it took me a long time to… I thought about keeping her away from it all for the rest of our lives, but she didn't deserve to be some kind of secret, like I'm not so damn proud that she's my soulmate."

"Yeah, she's… not what I was expecting your soulmate to be like," Dick admitted, and Jason couldn't help but tense a little in preparation for the likely continuation of that. But rather than telling him she was way too good for him, his older brother pulled him into a hug. "I'm so happy for you, Little Wing. And I'm very glad that I was wrong."

If his returning hug was a little tighter than usual, neither of them mentioned it.

They returned to the table, plates filled once more, and Jason was surprised to find it was actually nice, everyone chatting companionably with each other. Everything was going far better than he'd expected.

Honestly, that should have been a sign.

It was a joke. Obviously, it was a joke. He wasn't even sure who started it, since he was talking to Dick about the classes he'd been teaching.

"Enough."

The entire table went silent at the anger in Marinette's voice. It wasn't a tone he'd ever heard from her before, even during their arguments, but when he turned to see if she was alright, she was glaring at the side of the table where Barbara, Tim, Steph, Damian and Jon were sitting, startled looks on their faces.

"Pixie? You alright?"

"It is not funny, and it is certainly not true," she hissed. Jason frowned as he realized she was trembling, the way she usually did when she was overcome with emotions that she was too used to suppressing since Hawkmoth.

"Hey, no need to get upset," Barbara tried to placate her. "We were just jesting."

"Yeah, it's normal," Steph agreed, looking somewhat stunned that Marinette was reacting so strongly to whatever they'd been saying.

"So you're saying you didn't mean it? Or that you meant it so much that it's become something you regularly… jest about?" She hissed the word like it was a curse.

"What's going on?" Dick asked, looking between her and the ones she was glaring at.

"We were just saying we were surprised that she was Jason's soulmate," Tim defended, clearly not sure why she was reacting the way she did. "Let's be honest, we all know she's way out of his league."

"Connerie," she replied instantly. "That is complete nonsense and absolutely not true."

Jason grimaced a little. He'd mentioned to her that they were likely to react like that – he was honestly surprised it had taken as long as it had. But he had been fairly careful not to say it to her himself, no matter how much he did believe it, because he knew she wouldn't react well. Because she did not believe it.

"Hey, it's a compliment to you," Jon said optimistically, trying to keep the peace.

"It is not," Marinette disagreed, her voice tightly controlled. "It is an insult to Jason and it is wrong. You act like he is somehow less when that is the farthest thing from the truth. I am lucky to have him as my soulmate and I will not have anyone doubting that."

Honestly, Jason wasn't sure anyone except her wasn't doubting it.

Taking her hand from where it was tightly gripping her knife, his thumb ran soothing circles along the back of it. "It's alright, ma moitié," he tried to calm her down. The longer she remained this emotional, the harder she would crash afterwards.

"It is not alright," she argued, eyes tearing up now. His own eyes widened when he noticed how close she was to crying. "It is not alright and they are wrong."

Something in her gaze sharpened as she looked at him, and then around to the rest of them.

"I'm not perfect," she informed all of them. "No one is. But you all think he's so... Why would you think something like that? That is not even how soulmates work! Both soulmates are a blessing to the other, giving them something to make their life better, happier.

"Do you know what it is like to feel lost, all the time? My entire life I have felt alone and lost and scared. I felt like I could not ask for help without being a burden, like I had to solve everything alone or I would be an inconvenience, would disappoint people. I had to solve my own troubles and I had to solve everyone else's as well because I could and I should. Every bad thing was my fault and my problem to fix. I had to be in charge and I had to direct the others and I was held responsible for everything. I was alone and miserable and anxious and overwhelmed and drowning.

"And then I met Jason, and suddenly I was allowed to be happy without it ending in a disaster of one kind or another. I met someone who I had spent my life dreaming about, hoping for, and he was so much more wonderful than I had ever dared hope he could be. I found someone I could share my burdens with, someone who I could trust enough to lean on, someone who doesn't expect anything from me except that I just be myself, with all of my issues and my imperfections and my problems and all the things I sometimes hate about myself.

"I can trust him to stand by my side and I can trust him to support me and I can trust him to protect me. He makes me feel safe. Until we found each other, I had no idea what it was like to feel safe. Didn't know what it was like not to constantly feel like I had to fix everything myself, to feel like a failure all the time. To feel like, if I couldn't do it, I would never be good enough.

"Always, always I felt terrified and overwhelmed, and always I had to push that down and get over it and figure out a way to deal with a problem myself. But now, I don't have to do it all alone. Finally, finally there is someone that will support me and help me and protect me. Someone that is strong and smart and determined and skilled enough that I don't have to worry I'll just lose him in the end. Someone who knows what it's like to have the world try to break them again and again and again, who has proven that he's strong enough to take all the hits and still get back up, still try to do his best to help people and protect people and make the world a better place so others might not have to deal with everything he has.

"It's... With him, I learned what it was like to feel safe for the first time, and it took me months to realize what it meant to finally be able to relax because I was so incredibly unaware of how that could feel. I didn't know, until... He is everything I never even knew to hope for. And I will not ever just sit back and listen to you jest about Jason somehow not being good enough for me, just let anyone make him think that finding him is anything less than the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me!"

For several long seconds, the entire room was frozen. And then Marinette raised a trembling hand to her face, feeling the tears running down it, and took a shuddering breath. "I… Excuse me, I… I should find a restroom."

Jason stared after her, completely stunned. Looking back at them, he was met with their equally astonished looks.

"I need to…" The sentence trailed off as he got up and rushed out of the room to find her, leaving all of them sitting there in silence.

Since she'd never been to the manor before and wouldn't know where to go, she hadn't gotten far. He spotted her almost immediately, pressed against the doorframe of a sitting room one hallway away from the dining room. She had her face in her hands and her shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

"Sweetheart?"

She startled, raising luminous eyes to look up at him before quickly casting them down again with a small flinch, still trembling. "I'm so sorry, I didn't want to ruin it. I just got so angry and I yelled at them and now I ruined Alfred's birthday and your family is going to hate me and…"

Two steps and he was right in front of her.

He kissed her.

One hand cupped her face tenderly, his other arm wrapping around her lower back loosely – holding, but not restraining her.

For a fraction of a moment, Marinette stiffened as his kiss cut off her self-deprecating monologue, but then she absolutely melted as she pressed into him with a soft whimper that made him tighten his hold in an attempt to pull her impossibly closer as their kiss deepened, became more profound.

As he kissed her, he tried to convey all those overwhelming feelings and thoughts he didn't even know how to start telling her. His gratitude, his adoration, his awe, his reverence, his fierce, complete, unadulterated, ardent, all-encompassing love. Time felt eternal as all of his senses were captivated by her. All he heard was her breath and her soft, pleased sighs. All he tasted was her mouth and the salt from her previous tears. All he smelled was her flowery perfume and her fruity shampoo, a smell he associated with spring and joy. All he felt was her, everywhere he was touching her burned, a fire igniting and searing him from within that made him lose his breath and feel so unequivocally, blissfully alive.

Finally he pulled away, breathing heavily. The soft, disappointed whine that escaped Marinette made him want to go right back to kissing her, but he couldn't. There were things he needed to say and, more importantly, there were things she needed to hear.

"Please," he begged, surprised by the gravelly quality of his own voice, "please don't apologize. You… People don't do that for me, Marinette. No one has ever… I… Fuck, I am the luckiest damn person ever. You… I hope you know, I need you to know, that you're also… Hell, even the best dreams and the biggest hopes I had about my soulmate don't come close, were utterly insufficient, fell entirely short of everything you are.

"I don't… You said you didn't know what it was like to feel safe, protected. I have never known anyone to love me like you do," he confessed. "You trust me, and you allow yourself to rely on me, and you make it so clear that you will always be on my side, be by my side, and you… You love so completely, ma lutine. You are the first, the only one that I have never doubted. I've always felt like I was just waiting for the moment where people would have enough of me, where I'd disappoint them or be too much or too little or they'd just stop caring and then they'd leave or throw me away, but you… You love so much, and so intensely, and you are the first one that has me believing in… Hell, in everything – that you'll never stop loving me, that you'll stay… that we'll endure. Even when we fight or argue it's like you have to make sure that I know you still love me so you yell at me while making me your chocolate chip vanilla cookies or you'll tell me how angry you are while you're taking care of my wounds so gently, so tenderly to make sure it hurts as little as possible and… And I know. You make sure I always know and you have never, ever had me doubting you. You say I make you feel safe, but… You make me feel safe, too."

He felt absolutely no shame at the few tears he felt running down his face or the open, raw sincerity in his voice.

Through his own tears, he saw that Marinette still hadn't stopped crying as she raised her slightly shaking hands to his face, wiping his tears away so damn gently.

He was Jason Todd, and Red Hood, and he could hardly remember the last time someone had been gentle.

(That was a lie. Talia had been gentle to manipulate him. And he remembered one time when he'd been fourteen and sick and Alfred had taken care of him. It had felt nice, but he had also been warily waiting for the other shoe to drop, scared that requiring too much care and not being useful enough and not being good enough would mean an end to the affection. The part he couldn't remember, because he hadn't ever felt it, was trusting that affection.)

"I do," Marinette whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "I do, so much, Jason. You're… Spirits, you are amazing, mon âme. You are brave, and strong, and brilliant, and caring, and so, so loved."

It was impossible to tell who started it – she rose to her tiptoes to reach him at the same time he bent down towards her, lips meeting in a kiss that swiftly turned from tender to sensual as they both lost themselves in the sensations, desperately trying to convey their feelings.

Marinette whimpered as Jason took charge, making him pull her even closer. Her hips met his, and he groaned at the feeling of her heat pressed against him.

With a hissed curse, Jason lifted her up against the wall, and her legs wrapped around him without hesitation. Lost in the sensation of her, he thrust his hips against hers, her breathy whimpers and cries making him harden even further. Her head fell back against the wall with a keening moan. "Jason…" His lips moved towards the length of her neck, now exposed, as he scraped his teeth gently over the skin.

Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him back against her, and he groaned and pulled her back into a bruising kiss that elicited an eager whine from the back of her throat as she surrendered to him completely. He felt like he was drowning in the taste and the sound and the feeling of her, his heart pounding hard enough that he could hear the blood roaring in his ears, and he could have stayed like this forever.

But he realized, faintly at first, that they were in the middle of a hallway in his adoptive father’s house, and he needed to stop before they went any further.

Gentling the kiss a little, he nipped at her bottom lip – an action that always caused her to let out a pleased hum. She arched into him, pressing her lithe frame against him in all the best and the worst ways, and he ground against her again – slowly, deliberately – before pulling away with an absolutely wrecked moan. "Fuck, Pixie…"

Jason rested his forehead against hers as he tried to calm his breathing and his heartbeat. Luckily, Marinette seemed to have realized where they were as well, and she did the same. Her arms were still wrapped around his neck, but one of her hands came up to stroke his hair and his cheek tenderly.

Her eyes, which had darkened with arousal, now softened into affectionate, and he could almost feel his own do the same. When she smiled at him like that, blue eyes dark with her adoration and shimmering with her love for him, it was like looking at a night sky filled with the most beautiful stars – gentle, peaceful and so damn ethereal. He could see the universe in her loving eyes, radiant and infinite.

Gently, he lowered her to the floor as she unwrapped her legs from around him. One hand came up to stroke her cheek, as she had done to him before, and he gave into temptation as he brushed another kiss against her lips, though he made sure to keep it light this time.

"Should we go back?" she murmured, sounding reluctant.

"Not yet." He wasn't sure about his family’s reactions, but he did know he still felt too raw to deal with them now. And clearly, she wasn't any more eager. "How about I show you my favorite room in the manor?"

Leaning into him, she took his hand. "I would love that."

He took her up the stairs and down a hallway, telling her small things he knew about the history of the manor and the art on the walls, as well as some of his own memories from when he lived there.

When the door opened, he instantly felt calmer and more settled. The library had always had that effect on him, the quiet, almost reverent feeling in the air inspiring a serenity that was almost impossible to find somewhere else.

Like always, he was drawn towards the window seat. Back when he'd been younger and more innocent and less jaded and still Robin, he'd often sat there to unwind – still in the library, but close enough to a viable exit that the wary part of him was consoled. Even after everything, it was one of the only places in the manor he could feel a semblance of peace.

And now he could share it with Marinette, with the far lovelier, real version of the soulmate he'd sometimes dared to dream about as he read about the romance and relationships of others.

She followed him easily, trustingly as he gently directed her there, curling herself into his lap as he sat down.

Wrapping his arms around her, Jason could feel Marinette relax into him as she tucked her head under his chin. He was the only one she would allow herself to be this at ease with, releasing her usual guarded vigilance, trusting him to keep her safe and protected when she let herself be small and vulnerable.

Breathing softly, they both remained silent as they just relaxed together. Marinette's head was resting on his chest, and her fingers tapped his arm in time with his heartbeat, and their inhales and exhales harmonized until they breathed as one.

Her other hand was holding his, gently stroking across the scars and calluses like she could heal them with her caress. It was one of the small things she did often, like she couldn't not touch him when they were close, and it was one of the small things that somehow made him feel so loved.

Gotham was cloudy most of the time, enforcing the dark and dreary atmosphere that made its inhabitants feel so on edge and hopeless. But very, very rarely there would be a clear night. Crime was always lower on those nights, like the clouds had taken the misfortune with them.

On those nights, Jason had loved to sit in that exact spot and look at the stars, feeling a sense of wonder every time. It was the same sense of wonder he felt when looking into Marinette's eyes. And as he sat there, looking at the stars and holding his precious soulmate, he remembered sitting in that same spot, looking at those same stars, and making a naïve wish for a soulmate that would love him unconditionally, that would support him faithfully, and that would stay with him through life's highs and lows both.

Back then, he hadn't really believed that wishes upon stars were anything more than some fantastic notion. But now, sitting there with Marinette in his arms, he mentally sent his sincerest gratitude up into the night sky.

With her, nothing felt impossible.